Sam Barone: Battle For Empire

Eskkar remembered the sadness that had come over him when he awoke from his fever and delirium to discover that Bracca had indeed gone. “We did save each other’s life a few times. But things worked out well enough.”

“Yes, and I’m glad for you. But I wouldn’t have come upriver and risked getting my throat cut just for that. There’s something else I should have told you, wanted to tell you long ago. Do you remember the fight at Marcala?”

Eskkar thought for a moment, but the name evoked no memory. “Marcala? No, not really. Where was it?”

“The gold mine in Sumeria. We rescued the slave from the mine for his mother, and stole the Village Elder’s gold.”

“I remember. . the time the madness came over you. You killed the slave master, the one twice your size. I really thought he would take you down.”

“Dargo, his name was. Yes, the battle rage was upon me that night.” Bracca scratched at his chin. “Not important now. But that fight. . I should have died that day. I’d brought death down upon us all. There was no reason for you to stay and fight beside me. That’s why I told you to go, expected you to go. You shouldn’t have stayed.”

“Perhaps I was foolish.” Eskkar drummed his fingers on the table, his hand almost brushing the hilt of the sword. “But what does it matter now? I’m sure you didn’t come all the way to Akkad just to thank me for saving your miserable life on one particular day.”

“Well, of all the fights we were in together, that’s the one I can’t forget. So, yes, I did come to warn you because of what you did that day. I don’t expect you to understand why.” Bracca paused to take another sip of ale. “That, and maybe because I don’t like the idea of the Elamites just marching in and crushing the cities of Sumeria. I was born there, you know. And I’ve seen what they do to a conquered city. Even worse than what you did to Larsa.”

Eskkar grunted. In the Sumerian War, he had reduced the city of Larsa to a pile of rubble. Even today, no one lived there. That single act of retribution and terror still gave pause to anyone thinking about attacking Akkad. “Whatever your reasons, I thank you for the warning. But why the secrecy?”

“Because even among my own men, the Elamites have other spies who watch my doings. They trust me, I’m sure of that, but they take no chances with anyone not born into their ruling clan. Tonight, I had to wait until all the others were busy with their own pleasures before I could slip away. As it is, I must return to my inn soon enough. My vessel’s cargo is sold, and tomorrow we take ship for Sumer.”

“I’m sorry you have to go.” Eskkar meant the words. Despite Bracca’s gloomy forewarning, Eskkar sensed that his old friend would have liked to spend some time talking about the past, like old comrades who have fought side by side. Eskkar would have, too.

Bracca nodded. “It can’t be helped. But before I go, I’d like to speak with your wife, Trella.”

Eskkar’s frown returned. “So you can learn more about her, if you need to send assassins?” His fingers reached out and caressed the sword’s hilt.

“Always the suspicious barbarian.” Bracca shook his head. “No, so that she can hear my words herself. As I said, I’ve learned much about her. Some men say she rules Akkad as much as you.”

Or with even greater authority than the King, according to more than a few of those rumors. Eskkar studied his visitor. Well, why not? She would want to know what had been discussed. Besides, she was already the most guarded person in Akkad. And after tonight, that protection would increase.

Eskkar rose, picking up the sword as he stood. Bracca’s eyes widened when Eskkar lifted the blade, but Bracca made no move and showed no fear. Eskkar turned his back to the table and replaced the blade into its scabbard, still hanging on the wall. “I’ll summon her.” Walking around the table, Eskkar went to the door, pulled it open, and stepped onto the landing.

Four Hawk Clan guards, one of whom carried a strung bow in his hand, looked up anxiously from the lower landing when he appeared. With his left hand, Eskkar gave the signal that all was well, though none of the guards bothered to relax. In the chamber below, Trella sat on a bench, her head almost touching that of Annok-sur. Both raised their eyes to Eskkar.

“Trella, will you please join us.”

Without waiting, Eskkar returned to the table and again took his seat. Bracca hadn’t moved, and he still held his ale cup in both hands.

A moment later, one of the guards pushed the half-open door aside, glanced inside the chamber, then stepped back to allow Trella to enter. She swept into the room, moving with purpose until she reached the end of the table. As if by chance, she took the one place at the table where her body would not block the light from any of the candles. She, too, wanted to observe their visitor’s face.

“Yes, Husband?”

“This is my old friend and companion, Bracca.” Eskkar kept his eyes on his guest, to see what reactions Trella’s presence evoked. “We rode together for several years. Bracca has come to warn us of a new danger.”

“Then he is doubly welcome to our home.” She gazed down at Bracca, smiled, and inclined her head in a slight bow.

Whatever Bracca had heard, whatever he’d expected, Trella’s appearance and manner caught him off guard. His mouth opened slightly as he gazed up at Eskkar’s wife.

Trella, now just thirty years old, wore an unadorned linen dress that barely brushed the floor, though one that showed her figure to its best advantage. Eskkar noticed that it was not the every-day garment she’d worn when she departed to visit Hathor’s household. After hearing Annok-sur’s words, Trella had changed into something finer, to reflect the important status of Eskkar’s guest.

As she spoke, Trella held her head high, and her shoulders back. Her feet were bare, and her only jewelry was the single filet of silver that kept her thick black hair away from her face. Not only was Trella’s face devoid of the fashionable oils or copper paints to color her eyes or cheeks, but her face showed no hint of ever having used the artifices that most women of wealth employed. The bright candles sent glimmers of light shining in the lustrous hair that brushed her shoulders.

Under the influence of her smile, Bracca slowly rose to his feet, the chair scraping awkwardly as he stood and returned her bow. Trella’s eyes held his own, and it took a moment before Bracca remembered to break the silence.

“My thanks to the Queen of Akkad for her hospitality.”

To Eskkar’s ears, Bracca’s voice sounded a trifle unsure, though he doubted anyone else would have noticed. Eskkar held back the smile at Bracca’s reaction to Trella’s presence. He’d seen the effect before.

Trella, of course, noticed everything. Her eyes now studied Bracca, his face, hands, even the man’s clothes and the manner in which he wore them.

“For such a close companion of my husband my name is Trella. Please call me that. And if there is anything that you want or need, you have only to ask. Now please, sit.” She selected the pitcher of ale, and refilled the guest’s cup.

Bracca sank back into the chair, then had to move it back to the table. “Thank you, Queen. . Trella. Lady Trella.”

“Eskkar recounted several stories about your travels, and how you brought him safely to Orak.” She handed him the cup, and gracefully took her own seat at the table.

“Did he, now? Well, Eskkar was never very good at telling stories. Sometimes days would go by, and all he ever did was grunt.”

Trella laughed, her white teeth flashing in the candlelight. The melodious sound filled the room. “He took some persuading. I explained that I needed to know his thoughts and deeds. . all those things that helped him survive so many battles. The more I learned about him, the more I could help him. He told me your wits were as quick as your sword.”